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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967720">Can't Do This Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknesscrochets/pseuds/darknesscrochets'>darknesscrochets</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, hamid has bad feelings about planar travel, spoilers for RQG 187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:47:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknesscrochets/pseuds/darknesscrochets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamid thinks about Rome in the Garden.</p>
<p>Well, <em>thinks</em> is one word for it. <em>Panics</em> is another.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can't Do This Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>inspired by things people said on the official RQ discord about Hamid &amp; planar travel. *gently pats Hamid* there is too much trauma in this halfing please stop.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Any preference for a portal?” Cel yells, and it’s the first time today Hamid has truly felt <em>afraid</em>.</p>
<p>Oh, he’s been emotional in other ways--he was worried for Skraak, when the tentacles and the trees went after them, and a sort of nostalgic grief settled gently into his heart earlier when he walked through the Garden with Aziza. But he wasn’t bone-deep <em>afraid</em> the way he is right now, at the idea of jumping through a portal into parts unknown.</p>
<p>If they could find another way, maybe--another way out, or <em>away</em>, just. Somewhere that isn’t the plant. Something that isn’t a portal through another world. Or <em>to</em> another world; who knows what really lies at the other end?</p>
<p>They don’t have time, though, and Zolf is focused in that single-minded way of his on getting everyone to the plant that might--<em>might</em>--get them to London. Azu and Skraak are already following him, and--</p>
<p>Hamid knows, he <em>knows</em> that Azu can take care of herself, and so can Skraak. But it doesn’t keep his heart from racing, beat-beat-beating in time with the panic that’s taken up residence inside his ribs. He’s the last of their group to turn toward the flower bud, and every step leaves him floating, half-tethered to the ground, like the lightning bolt from the tree is still thruming through his veins even with the energy resistance to help withstand it.</p>
<p>Hamid runs toward what might be the death of them all--or something <em>worse</em>--and grabs the closest hands to his as he casts a last fireball behind him. For a second, he swears he can see stars through the petals, a glimpse of a universe on a scale like nothing he’s ever seen.</p>
<p>It’s familiar and terrifying all at once.</p>
<p>For a second, the hands he’s holding aren’t Azu’s and Skraak’s, with large, familiar fingers in one and scaly claws in the other.</p>
<p>For a second, Hamid’s back in Rome-that-wasn’t, in the limbo of a pocket dimension. Amidst the smoke and the strange dimness and scrub, dead plants below and an endless plain all around. He’s holding onto a small hand and a larger one--Ishak on one side, Emeka on the other. Someone screams as the earth falls and they’re all plummeting down, then up, then--</p>
<p>They land--</p>
<p>The world, as it steadies around him, is a bright, unearthly blue, trees crackling with electricity behind them. There are no ruined buildings, no corrupted gate spell, no dust and debris and rubble. Only--<em>only?</em>--the ozone of lightning, the rustling of those odd trees, the barest sigh of the petals as they part to allow his friends through to whatever’s on the other side. The differences between the Garden and Rome are stark, when he takes the time to think about them.</p>
<p>The warmth of hands in his is the same. The fear-tight strength of his grip, palm sweaty from nerves and the lingering adrenaline of a fight half-done.</p>
<p>He hasn’t gone anywhere, but he’s about to. Hamid shakes his head to clear it, and runs between the petals of the flower bud to join the others, hands still tingling from one last fireball as trees burn behind him.</p>
<p>They won’t let anyone go this time. They <em>won’t</em>.</p>
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